Rebuilt
by redex
Summary: SnapeRemus, DracoHarry. Sometimes your mind doesn't let you believe the easy lies. PostHBP
1. Part One

This is going to be chaptered, if I can keep it up. It shall have many convoluted pairings, but do not fear. Pray, read on, gentle reader.

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**Rebuilt **_by _**Redex**

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It was a dark night - rain hissed against the windows.

They huddled over mugs of hot tea, warming one pair of shaking hands, and one pair of all-too steady ones.

"He will know soon," the black-haired one said quietly, finally breaking the silence.

There was no question who "he" was.

The blonde one shuddered and took a gulp of his tea to steady his nerves a little more, wishing it was spiked.

"You don't want to go back."

He was trying to summon more of a reaction from his young charge than this silent brooding.

"I can't. But my mother..."

Severus' face set grimly.

"Dumbledore was right - she could be protected, with the right people."

Draco's head jerked upwards, eyes wide as they set on his former professor.

"But you're-!"

A smirk spread itself over Snape's face.

"Yes, Voldemort's right hand man."

Draco let out a harsh laugh into his mug and took another gulp.

"He'll kill you if he finds out you helped me."

Snape shrugged, affecting ease to calm Draco down, while glancing at the clock.

"I'll die if I don't help you to the best of my ability anyways. I believe I have a much better chance of working my way around Voldemort's wrath than base magical law."

Draco saw Snape's look.

"Are you expecting someone?"

"No. We should leave soon, though. This place will be the first that the other Death Eaters will come when they hear what has happened. We should not be here when they arrive."

They're out in the rain a few hours later, getting ready to appaperate into London. Draco jerked Snape's cloak and he bent down a little to him, not expecting it when wet lips press against his own.

"Thank you," Draco mumbled, blushing a little and turning away.

Snape ignored the jerk in his stomach and hooked his arm through Draco's. "Hold on."

They stepped forward, and arrived in front of the decrepit bar. Snape had a firm grip on Draco's arm and nearly dragged him inside, passed everyone with hoods pulled down low, and stepped in front of the wall.

"Don't speak to anyone. Don't look at anyone. Don't use magic, and don't buy anything."

Draco hesitated, pride bristling at being ordered not to do things he knew he shouldn't anyways, but he kept his mouth closed and nodded.

_Just do what you have do to save Mother._

They stalked through the nearly-empty walkways, the usual bustling, loud storefronts hushed and people rushed from store to store. They arrived inside Gringotts, which still looked busy, even if only because half the building was security.

"Cicarix account, if you don't mind," Snape sneered into the air around them. A goblin immediately appeared in front of him and bowed deeply.

"Of course, sir. One moment, sir."

Draco blinked. The last time he had come here with his mother, before school, it had taken an hour before they managed to argue and bribe their way into their account.

It suddenly hit him how long Snape must have been planning the double, now triple cross.

---

The blond hair was disheveled and framed a perfectly sculpted face as it rested in silent repose. He let his fingers brush a bit of hair off of a closed eyelid, eyes narrowed in exhaustion and seriousness.

All this year, Draco had denied him what he had so readily given before. It had come as a goodwill present from Lucius the first time. It still disgusted him to no end that Draco had known exactly what to do as a boy of eleven.

But he had still done it. And done it again.

---

The news that Snape, the killer of Voldemort, was captured rang through the magical world. It was only moments after the capture was actually made that the Order found out in the form of a Tonks-type head in the fire to Remus Lupin.

He immediately arrived in the main hall of the Ministry in time to spot Snape being lead through in heavy chains with multiple auror guards in black. Their eyes found each other in the crowd and Remus pushed his way through to the front. Something wasn't right. He could smell it off Snape from here, and Remus wondered if Snape could use Occlumency without a wand.

He stopped at the edge of the clearing made by a few hundred sneering, whispering bodies and then hesitated. How could he trust this man, who had killed the only man left living that he had trusted with his life? But he pointed his wand discreetly in the folds of his robes and projected his mind... _Legilimins_

Snape's mind was completely open.

_...The binding charm, gold and red snakes around his wrists and the voice of Narcissa binding him to her son..._

_...Draco, frozen on the parapet, Dumbledore wavering on the edge of death, the sudden bombardment of memories of excruciating pain and a failing heart. The fear of a prolonged death and a trapped spirit. The final decision, made in an instant, bringing a mercy killing to the one man who had trusted him and taken him in despite it all..._

_...Draco, huddling in a muggle motel just outside London, terrified for his life, hearing the sound of Death Eater footsteps at every moment..._

_...The knowledge that he would be more safe in prison than anywhere else, but would still be able to keep his lies intact on both sides he was playing, the knowledge of how Draco, like Snape, had only ever wanted to have friends like that..._

And the connection was broken, Snape's eyes flickered away as a Knut nearly hit him in the head from an angry passer-by and the guards shuffled him forward. His head inclined ever so slightly at Remus as he passed, impassive and cool as always, the knowledge that he had now done what he could for his young charge loosened the feeling of heavy chains biting into his stomach and tightening so he couldn't breathe.

And then he was gone, taken in a service elevator down into the holding cells to await his probably eminent trial.

Remus turned around immediately and rushed back into the first fire he could, barely pausing in Grimmold place to scribble two notes before focusing on the room he had seen in Snape's memories, praying it wasn't a trap, that the Death Eaters hadn't already gotten Draco...

When he apperated just outside the door he was slightly surprised, and then realized that Snape had cast a charm to deflect all apparitions. Clever. The door was locked by more than muggle means as well, so Remus mused for a moment before simply knocking.

There was no answer. Remus worried his lip for a moment. If the Death Eaters had come, they would have come through this door, and there's no sign of a struggle... There was a small, curtained window beside the door. He tapped on it with his wand. The curtains rustled and an eye flashed into view before disappearing again. Before long, Lupin heard someone fiddling with the door from inside. It opened a small amount and it was Draco Malfoy who looked out at him, lines of fear haunting his face. All Remus' doubts dissolved.

"Snape has allowed himself to be taken by the Ministry," Remus said quietly.

"You're alone?"

He nodded and the door opened a little bit more.

"I'm going to take you to our safe place," Remus continued, listening for the sounds of anyone approaching. "If you want to come, that is. I believe that was the plan. If you'll get your things, we'll leave right away."

Draco hesitated for a moment.

"You know then?"

"Poison killed Dumbledore, not Severus."

Draco nodded curtly as if a password had been given and opened the door.

"You might as well come in while I get a few things. You can apperate out, but not in..."

Remus shut the door behind him as he surveyed the musty room. One bed was disheveled and smelling of... Draco flushed and cast a blanket over that bed before rummaging around underneath it and coming up with a book bag and a cloak.

"Alright, let's go."

"Can you do it on your own?" Remus asked mildly, tucking his wand inside his robe's sleeves and reached out to take the bag.

"Yeah, passed my test on the first try."

There was only a trace amount of the old smugness Remus recognized from his year teaching the boy.

"You'll have to hold on to me anyways, since you've never been there before."

They hooked arms, and on the count of three stepped forward into Grimmold Place. Draco looked back and forth, looking expectantly for something, but obviously not finding it.

"Is it one of these places?" he asked, eyeing the decrepit old buildings lining the abandoned street.

"Not quite," Remus said quietly, rummaging around in his cloak and coming up with a small folded piece of paper - one of the notes he had written earlier.

"Read this, memorize it, and then drop it on the ground."

Draco's eyes widened as he read the note and the paper promptly burst into flames.

"It's unplottable? But _our_ house... I thought ministry weren't allowing that any more?"

"The ministry can't enforce the law on something they don't know exists," Remus said grimly, stepping towards the newly-reformed House of Black.

Draco followed closely behind. When they stepped inside the darkened corridor, Remus tapped the gas lamps with his wand, lighting them up all down the hallway.

"Don't make any noise," Remus said quietly, quickly walking passed what looked like a curtained window.

When they went down into the kitchen, Kingsley Shacklebolt was already there with Arthur Weasley and Tonks. They looked up immediately from what Remus recognized to be his note. Tonks started forward with "What do you mean..." but trailed off with a small "oh" when she spotted the blonde teen standing behind Remus hesitantly.

"Draco, this young lady is Nymphadora Tonks, preferring her surname only, and ah, Kingsley Shaklebolt, and of course you'll have already met Arthur," Remus said calmly. "And we'll go up and find you a room. I'll be right back down."

And Draco was ushered back up the stairs and through a living room, where he spotted the crest over the fireplace.

"This is the Black family mansion?" he asked, incredulous, following Remus up the worn stairs to the second story.

"Sirius wasn't a Death Eater, as well you should know," Remus said quietly. "He gave the house to Harry when he died. They both donated it to Order of the Phoenix's use."

Draco could tell he had stumbled upon a painful subject and didn't say anything until Remus left him in a warmly-furnished room, obviously updated since its previous inhabitants.

"You can come down when you feel up to it," Remus said gently, eyes all too knowing. Draco only sat down on the quilted bed and nodded.

When Remus arrived back downstairs, he was immediately accosted by the three Ministry workers for information. Sitting down at the table and accepting a cup of tea from Kingsley, he told them what had happened between he and Snape, editing out the personal parts, knowing that they were meant for him and him alone.

They all sat around in silence when Remus finished his tale with Draco's arrival at the house.

"You trust him?" Arthur asked wearily, looking at him over his glasses.

"Yes," Remus sighed, massaging his prematurely graying temples. "I do trust both of them."

_For better or for worse..._

They accepted his decision in the way that they usually did: with doubts of their own, but trust in him.

The children would not be so trusting.

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Commentu? 


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

The first week at the Black Mansion was almost disconcertingly peaceful for Draco. The idea of not being in danger of loosing his life was almost novel.

He got up in the morning and found no one in the house except for him and the werewolf.

They ate most meals in the cold kitchen, and Draco quickly realized that he was getting better food than Lupin was used to. He felt a little guilty at that. It was obvious there wasn't a lot of money running through these scarred hands.

During the day Lupin was usually out, not to return until late in the evenings. He worked long hours, plus Order work. Periodically people came over for dinner and Draco did his best to be invisible. He didn't want their pitied looks or their scorn.

One night was spent quietly in front of the fire, reading.

"Tomorrow, Molly and Arthur are coming to stay for a while with the kids."

Draco froze.

"Harry...?" he said quietly.

Lupin nodded.

Draco felt a strange twist in his stomach. Harry would be here. After all the shit between them...

---

He heard them come in, a great calamity of noise that fair shook the old house. He heard Mrs. Weasley exclaim over Lupin's thinness, about the dreariness of the house, about the weather outside (dreadful!)...

And he heard unmistakable voices. Ron, Hermione, and Harry.

He sat on the stairs leading down from the bedrooms, listening to them. They sounded so happy together, just talking and laughing and making supper. His family had never been this loud or this boisterous, but they had been a family. The only family he had ever known.

Not a family any more.

His head rested against the railing.

What a mess...

---

"Pass the potatoes, Malfoy."

"Ron! Manners!"

He didn't meet any of their eyes. He passed the potatoes.

He snuck glances at Harry across the table. He wondered if Harry had heard the real side of the story yet. Whether Harry really thought that he would have killed Dumbledore, given a few more minutes. Whether Harry still hated Snape. Whether Harry still hated _him_.

He was paid patient attention to by the adults who had heard the story, those who hadn't known him at school long enough to build up a grudge. The Weasley children were rude, to a point, meaning: when their mother wasn't looking. Hermione was ignoring him, and Harry...

Harry was poking at his food and laughing a little off key, and eyeing him back, albeit with a little less mournfulness and a little more suspicion.

---

He really hadn't meant to catch Harry alone. As much as he wanted to know what Harry thought of him, the conversation that would have to come before the understanding was not something he relished the idea of. He could hardly hope that Harry would come diving into his arms, weeping apologies for misunderstanding him.

And so, he nearly turned around and left again when he found Harry in the library one quiet afternoon.

"Wait!"

He paused and slowly turned back, seeing Harry half-standing out of his chair, a book in one hand.

"Um, if you came in here to be alone, I can go, I mean..."

Draco brushed his hair out of his face and approached a chair.

"You don't have to go either," Draco said quietly, collecting the book he had been reading off a table and sitting down on one of the worn wing-back chairs, flinging his legs over one arm and rested his back against the other. "It is your house, after all."

He had heard as much from Remus during their talks.

Harry sat back down.

He shifted in his seat a few times while Draco pretended to ignore him, before finally Harry dropped the book onto a stack and let out a long aggravated sigh.

"Why did you do it?"

Draco had anticipated the question. He had played it through his mind a million times, this confrontation between the two of them, bereft of masks of anger, and yet he found himself as cold as ever.

"Do you want the nice version or the truth, Potter?"

Before, Harry would have snapped at him to hide his confusion and indecision, yelling at him to stop being such an asshole and _just fuckin tell him already_.

Now, Harry just glared at him and he sighed, tired, so very tired.

"My father was in Azkaban and he fucked up big time. He was supposed to kill you! He insisted upon me being given this impossible mission to punish me for my father's loss. So my mother felt. And she was on the point of breaking, almost left herself. The Dark Lord would have killed us all without blinking, or had someone else do it. It was the only choice. Success was the only option, as those muggles say."

Harry was silent for a moment after this speech. Draco couldn't remember ever having a semi-civilized conversation with Harry before, and the irony that it was now, now at the crux of all things that it was happening.

"That's why Snape swore the Unbreakable Vow to take care of you, right?"

"Yes," it was more than that, he knew, but he wasn't about to tell Potter that.

Something shifted in Harry's face and the old anger bubbled to the surface.

"Is Snape still mad at me for what my father did, then? Was he only ever on our side for Dumbledore's sake?"

"Get over yourself, Potter," Draco snarled, feeling the irony bite into him as he said it, when he was the one who couldn't get over Harry. "Severus could have killed you a million times over this year! Not to mention the fact that he saved you from the Cretatious curse that night, and saved you a million times over with his information. And have you ever tried to get to know him? No!"

They were yelling now, standing, the book hanging from Draco's clenched hand, trying not to go for his wand. This was not what he wanted. He wanted Harry to understand, wanted to get over this stupid enmity, but he couldn't let him stand there and insult Snape like that. Severus who was nearly a father to him, more than a father.

"_Severus_ is it, then, Malfoy?" Harry sneered, the disgust showing on his face plainly. "Of course, _dear _Severus couldn't let them kill me; I have to be saved for Voldemort, don't I?"

"Stop being such a goddamn hypocrite, Potter!"

He had lost control. The situation was gone, might as well vent his frustrations while he was here.

"All those years using the old Gryffindor excuse that I had insulted your friends to hex me in the back hallways when no one is looking, but the moment I challenge your stupid little ideals with such a novel idea as maybe you're wrong and you start cursing the people I care about and _expect_ to be justified! You're a fucking _asshole_, you know that! You think, maybe, there's pain worse than boredom!"

Draco was shaking, his voice was horse and he felt his throat burn. Someone was knocking on the door and Lupin opened the door, looking in with a frown. Before he could say anything, Draco swept out, leaving an equally angry and stunned Harry in his wake.

The room was silent once Draco had left and Remus stepped in, closing the door behind him.

"You heard him?" Harry croaked out and then cleared his throat. "How could he think for a moment..."

But his resolve was shaken and he absent-mindedly ran his hand through his hair.

Remus gave a small encouraging smile and sat down in the chair Draco had just vacated, ushering Harry back into his own.

"I heard most of it, yes. I was just down the hall, in my bedroom, although I suppose the entire house heard most of it as well."

Harry looked sheepish and pushed up his glasses. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Remus waved a hand dismissively and got down to the point.

"Before you go off to tell Ron and Hermione what has happened, I would like to point out that Draco has a point, although I doubt that was the best way to present it."

Harry snorted and glowered out a window.

"Harry, listen to me," Lupin said sternly. Harry obeyed.

"Draco is in a hard place right now. He has lost his greatest friend, his mentor..." Here Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Lupin glared him down wearily. "And no matter who that person is in your mind, Draco needs a friend. Although I realize that this grudge has passed down through Sirius and James to you, it would be for the best if you got rid of it now, for Draco's sake."

Harry was silent, curled into himself.

Another knock on the door and Hermione's bushy head was ducking inside.

"Harry? Ah, oh sorry, Professor."

"I was just leaving," Remus said mildly, indeed getting up to leave. Ron and Hermione came quickly in and before the door shut behind him, Remus heard them start exclaiming over what they had heard of the argument.

Molly was at the bottom of the stairs, looking somewhere between guilty and motherly.

"Should I go up to see him?"

Lupin didn't ask which one Molly was concerned for.

"I think we should leave them to it," he said quietly, heading to the kitchen stairs, craving a nice cup of tea. "Harry needs to straighten things out with Draco on his own."

---

"He must be nutter to think we'd forgive him for all that stuff he's done to us."

But Harry was watching Hermione, proven to be better versed in the ways of human beings than either of the boys, and she was chewing her bottom lip with focus.

"Hermione?" he asked hesitantly. She started and looked up as if she had forgotten where she was.

"What? Oh, Harry, I really think you need to talk to him again. If you look at it from his point of view, you really have been a rather big prat about it all..."

"Harry's not a prat!" Ron said indignantly. "Draco brought it all on himself, the little bugger!"

Hermione continued as if she hadn't heard him, a long-practiced habit.

"You know that Malfoy was Professor Snape's favorite student and they spent a lot of time together. Malfoy probably looked up to him, as a mentor or a father or something."

A small flutter of wings in his stomach heralded the onset of guilt for Harry Potter.

"Yeah, Remus said something like that..." he mumbled, rubbing his hands under his glasses and over his eyes.

He almost yearned for the good ole days where the bad guys were evil and the good guys were perfect.

But of course, he had been the one who had wanted to shatter that illusion of himself in the first place.

Enter the grey shades.

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Review at me! 


	3. Part Three

Aah, I like this chapter very much. Finally, one that runs a theme through the entire thing. Definitely thank you to my only reviewer so far, TheJazz. ;) Hope you enjoy, dear!

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**Part Three**

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It was an awkward meeting, made through metal bars and on wooden chairs. Neither of them looked very healthy.

One in the bright red robes of a convicted prisoner, the other in ragged dove-grey.

The one in red couldn't help but notice how the one in grey's robes matched the faded parts of his hair, and at the same time, knew that it wasn't the reason why these were the robes chosen for the occasion.

The guards had been asked to wait outside, aurors-in-training, given a look at what they would be expected to apprehend in a year's time.

Remus didn't have anything to say.

"The boys are fighting, but I'm sure they'll learn to get along soon enough."

No need to be talking openly of sensitive information, whether they thought they were alone or not.

"They're important to each other, they'll figure it out," Snape said quietly.

He understood Draco's pain. He wanted for Draco what he hadn't been able to get for himself. He wanted that stupid, dense, arrogant child to take care of Draco in the ways that he could not.

"It's just a matter of convincing them of your guilt."

The wry humor was not lost on him.

Severus knew that convincing the people he had worked with in the Order would be hard, but it would be even harder to convince the people that mattered most to Draco. Snape could live with being hated and despised by his fellow wizards, he had certainly earned it by now, but Draco did not deserve it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said mildly,

Remus knew that Dumbledore had foreseen this kind of event happening. The only reason why Severus was not dead, albeit imprisoned for life in the depths of Azkaban, was on Dumbledore's post-humus word.

"The aurors must be getting better, to have caught you."

_You played it well._

"You give me too much credit."

_What do they think, if I've been caught_

"Voldemort certainly doesn't."

_You're still in his favor, as far as we know. There may be a break-out operation in the works._

So much meaning, hidden behind words. They could only guess and hope they were right. Snape fretted at this weak form of communication, having played with words long enough to know their many meanings. That was what a spy did, after all.

The door slid open.

"Time's almost up."

Severus looked at Remus through the bars of his tiny chamber intently.

"The moon is important too," he murmured, eyes desperate for the meaning to get through.

Such a feeble thing, words.

Remus flushed. He couldn't possibly...

"I...I know."

_But do you_

"Take care Severus," he replied quietly, standing up and allowing himself to be lead out of the chamber.

Those eyes followed him until they couldn't any more.

His wards stepped inside and slid the grating shut over the bars, giving him a little privacy and very little light. Sitting down on the thin mattress, he shuddered, replaying the moments over again in his head.

He only realized he shouldn't have wasted so many opportunities when now he had none.

---

He was sitting on the bed, looking forlornly at the rug under his bare feet. Too-loose pajama pants revealed too much bone and not enough fat, and the ragged, borrowed Weasley sweater covered his hands, giving him something to fiddle with. Molly Weasley's attempts to fatten him up were going unnoticed by his body, which was retaining the form of mourning despite her best efforts.

He had heard her, of course, when sitting in front of the fireplace in the sitting room, murmuring to Remus and sometimes Harry or Ron that they needed to liven him up. Remus always agreed, too kind for his own good, Harry always tensed and didn't reply, Ron always grumbled under his breath.

This time, though, Harry had been coerced into coming up into Draco's small guest room, and was sitting on the chair facing Draco, neither of them looking at each other. It had been a week since their argument, and it had always been like this when they were forced to be alone together, which was rare in itself.

Draco tucked a piece of stray blond hair behind his ear without looking up.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Um... you were right, about Snape. And about me. I mean, I don't really know that much about him, and I guess he's got reasons to act the way he does. And, um, I was hoping you'd, you know, forgive me, for being such a git about it."

Draco looked up, and a small part of him triumphed over finally getting the great Harry Potter to admit he was wrong, but the majority of him was still deadened, silent.

"They're in prison now. Both of them."

Harry, in a moment of sympathy, didn't ask who 'they' were.

"I probably won't get to see them again for a while. They won't let me visit my father, they'd never let me visit him. I miss him already, and it's only been a few weeks."

If the conversation had been the first time he had ever heard Draco speak to him as an equal, this was the first time he had ever seen Draco be so downtrodden. Other than that day in the bathrooms...

But that was a memory best forgotten.

That had been incredibly stupid of him, he felt guilty just thinking about it.

He didn't know why he mentioned it, but he did.

"That time in the bathroom. I don't know if you remember, but Snape was the one who healed you. I don't know if you would have survived, I don't know any healing magic..."

"He's good at it, even though he'll never admit it," Draco mumbled, smiling a little forlornly. "When my father beat me, he was the only one I'd let touch me."

Harry bit his lip and pushed his glasses up farther on his nose.

"Well, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but Remus went to go see Snape today, in Azkaban."

He felt his heart flutter a little bit when Draco looked up, the first emotion he had shown in days other than sorrow widening his eyes.

He was reminded of the revelation he had made, secretly, to himself, before Draco had even shown up at his metaphorical doorway.

"Um, so I'm sure you could talk to him about it," he finished lamely.

"I heard Granger talking to Remus," Draco said abruptly, eyes focusing on Harry and making him nervous. "She seemed to think that you were a bit obsessed with me over the school year. That you were... _stalking_ me."

The corner of his lips quirked upwards in the tiniest fraction of a smile.

"I... well, I was sure you were up to something..."

Harry flushed, suddenly sweating under Draco's yearning eyes, and suddenly thought, "Maybe it's not so impossible after all."

"Well, you were right," Draco said mildly, re-tucking that piece of hair that seemed to refuse to stay behind his ear. Harry had the sudden urge to do it for him. "And I knew you were following me - Myrtle and Severus told me."

"Even Ron and Hermione didn't think you were worth following," Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And you did."

Draco's eyes were boring into Harry's skull, and he felt a blush heating his cheeks.

"Yes, well, um, I better go then," he rushed and fled out of the room.

Draco looked back down at his feet, smiling a little more this time. He closed his eyes and imagined what could happen, now that it was all laid bare. He hesitantly touched himself before ridding himself of the dirtier thoughts and followed Harry out of the room. He felt like he was floating as he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Molly was standing in front of the stove, cooking supper.

"Do you want any help?" he asked quietly, and she jumped a foot, nearly dropping the knife she was holding. Clutching at her heart, she took a deep breath.

"Oh, my, Draco dear, I didn't hear you there, you gave me such a fright! No, no, there's no need for you to exert yourself. Are you hungry? I've got some fresh bread right here from this morning, if you want to cut yourself a slice..."

"No, I'm fine," he said quietly, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Thank you."

"You're such a charmer," she said as she turned back to her stew. "I'm sure you must have had many girlfriends while you were at school. Why, I remember when I was in fourth year there was this boy from slytherin..."

It was odd, this comfort, this glow emanating from somewhere inside him. Just the idea, the insinuation, that maybe Harry liked him, wanted to be with him as much as Draco wanted to, if that was enough to set this fire inside him, he was sure he'd blow up if he ever got a kiss.

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edit I don't usually do this, but duj was such a diligent and picky reader that I just had to. It's nice to have someone who forces me to up my standards! I looked very long and hard and couldn't find mention of Draco being too young for the apparation test. Also, I don't put warnings on things other than the rating. A bit of a pet peeve of mine. The story is what it is, and if they want to delete it, they can. As for dove grey versus silver, I think that's a bit opinionated. I agree with you on the eyes though, so that is changed, and I edited all the spelling mistakes I could find. If you go to the second paragraph of chapter six of HBP you'll find "hair streaked liberally with grey", which just challenges your version of "liberally".

Bad ending, ne? But here comes the romance. Comment please!


	4. Part Four

Only a few more chapters to go, thank goodness. I was hoping for this one to be the last one, but it's running on 2000 words, so I stopped. I never write anything that long!

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**Part Four**

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It was foggy outside.

Draco watched the street from behind his window, one hand on the ledge and one resting on Harry's ear.

There was a weight of messy black hair in his lap, glassed eyes focused on a book.

"Wizards came over from Egypt..." the heady mass mumbled to its pillow.

"A few millennia ago," Draco confirmed, drawing upon primary-school learning. "Egypt is still the oldest repository of magic in western Europe."

"They certainly were a lot more powerful back then..."

"That's what happens when you have a very small amount of people drawing upon a very large source."

"Well, yes," Harry conceded.

"I think it was probably better back then," Draco mused, smoothing Harry's hair absent-mindedly. It was a soothing, self-perpetuating exercise: it always bounced back. "People actually believed in things, you know? Religion gave everyone something to rely on and blame and it taught people morals."

"That's idealistic," Harry scoffed. "If you look at all the wars muggles have gotten into over religion."

"That's men's fault, not the religion's."

"Not everyone is as wise as Jesus," Harry said. "And you sound like a fascist."

"Well, that's the problem with fascism, isn't it?" Draco smirked, stealing Harry's glasses and trying them on, warping the visible world. "Stupid people get in power."

"And I suppose you think you'd do much better?" Harry said snidely, rolling onto his back in a vague attempt to get his glasses back, hampered by the fact that he could barely make them out on Draco's face. "Goddamn slytherins."

"You bet."

And, unable to just sit by while Harry squinted pitifully up at him, pouting, Draco took the glasses off. Instead of giving them back to Harry, however, he held them off to the side and bent down to kiss those sulking lips.

The pleasant rush in his stomach had yet to become usual, this action yet to loose its quality. He hoped it never did, the jolt of tongues meeting, the desire, pressing them both into each other, the hands that got his hair all mussed when he caught a lip between his teeth.

He didn't want this to stop being amazing, because then he might stop valuing it and loose it.

---

They had owled him with the message an hour ago. It had taken half an hour to get to Ministry, then another half hour to fill out secrecy forms.

And now he was in Azkaban.

They had told him only that he was needed; he didn't know how or why, or where even they had heard of him.

He jerked to his feet from the rickety chair in the waiting room when finally someone came in to collect him.

"Remus James Lupin?" the black-robed figured asked, as if he wasn't the only one in the room. He nodded. They beckoned him forward and started down the hallway. The shadows played at a heavy scar, denting in the skull of the auror.

"Recently we have had a security breach involving one of our maximum security wards. You realize that this is all confidential, not to be repeated?"

He nodded again as they approached what looked like their destination: a heavy wooden door, glowing at the edges with candlelight.

"One of prisoners was severely injured, though not mortally."

Remus could see the twist of "unfortunately" in those pursed lips.

"However, it is our policy by law that when such a thing occurs, the prisoner is allowed speak with a person from outside, to settle things. We almost made an exception in his case, but the prisoner nearly strangled someone already today when they tried to put veritaserum in his drink."

The auror's lips twisted in a look of disgust and pushed a key into the door's lock. It snapped open with a loud clunk and the auror pushed the door open.

"Voldemort's supporters?" Remus said quietly. "They were trying to get him out?"

Cloaked shoulders shivered at the mention of a forbidden name. "Yes, although it looked more like..."

Remus felt his stomach clench as he saw who was lying on the white hospital bed.

"They were trying to kill him."

"If you're back with more of that truth potion then you're going to have to-"

When the door shut and Remus was left with Severus, neither of them said anything for a while. Finally, Remus summoned a chair and sat down beside the high bed.

"Hm. I wasn't sure if they were lying or not, or if they'd permit a werewolf to come into Azkaban..." Snape said mildly, struggling into a seated position.

Remus quickly grabbed one of the pillows and eased it behind Severus' back.

"Should you be moving?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

"I'll be fine," Snape wheezed. "Well enough to be getting on with. It's not like I'm going to be missing anything."

There were bandages wrapped all around his chest, reaching up his neck. It seemed strange to see him in something other than his usual impeccable black robes.

"Why did you ask for me?"

"Who else would I ask for? There is no need to waste this opportunity for contact with the outside world."

Snape's voice sounded harsh and rough and Remus was reminded of a sudden jerk of Sirius. Were the captives of Azkaban being treated to torture to replace the dementors?

There was a silence. Remus wasn't sure whether it was uncomfortable or not.

"I should have brought you a book or a get-well card or something," he said finally.

Snape snorted. "This isn't a courtesy visit, you know, Lupin."

Remus swallowed a ball of frustration. "What is it, then, Severus?"

Another silence.

"Have you ever noticed that our generation has a habit of dying?" Snape said finally, quietly.

"Yes," Remus replied, equally quietly, shifting in his seat. Too many.

"Don't die."

Severus' eyes were on him, boring into him with what formerly was anger, now, something else.

Remus' eyes dropped and he chewed the inside of his lip.

"I'll take care of the boys as best I can, for as long as I can," he said finally.

"I guess that's the best I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?"

Remus smiled a little tiredly in acquiescence.

"Bloody Gryffindor," Severus snorted, eyes leaving Remus' to roam the room a little deliriously.

Remus' eyes moved over Severus' revealed body, wondering what kind of injuries were under those tight white bandages, conforming and restricting a slim, almost gaunt body. Indeed, Severus' breathing seemed restricted, raspy, shuddering. A conscious effort.

"What happened?" he asked finally, when he was sure Severus wasn't going to speak first.

"You weren't told?" Severus looked surprised, in a tired sort of way. An eyebrow arched upwards, only to furrow back down again as he began coughing harshly, back and chest heaving as he bent double, trying to catch his breath.

Remus was immediately by his side, the few steps needed to close the distance made in a few seconds. His hand enclosed a loose-robed arm, the other arm wrapping around his back to hold him in place. Finally, the coughs slowed to a wheeze and Remus steadied Severus, lowering him back onto his pillow. He tried not to look at the splatters of blood on the formerly pristine sheets.

Remus was a little surprised that his helping hands weren't pushed away, so one still rested on Severus' forearm as he accio-ed his chair closer to the bedside.

Severus caught his breath slowly, eyes closed with unintended tears glistening on his eyelashes and smeared across his cheeks where he had smudged them away.

And then he tried speaking again, voice a little harsher, rougher than before.

"They attacked my cell three nights ago, somehow blew up the wall that faces the outside. There were five of them; I couldn't tell who they were. I obviously didn't have a wand... Those fools who were supposed to be guarding me were probably asleep; it took a good few minutes for them to realize what was going on and unlock the door."

"They hexed you?" Remus asked, feeling a latent anger choke him momentarily before he grew scared of it and shoved it back down again. It burned in his stomach.

Severus inclined his head in acquiescence. "A few times."

Remus bit his lip. He wasn't even sure any more how much concern he was supposed to, allowed to show. "But you'll heal?"

"Barring infection, complications or poisoning attempts, presumably I'll be fine in a few months," Severus said mildly, smiling a little. "More importantly," he continued, tone quieting. "Is the matter of my imprisonment."

Remus froze, hand tightening on Severus' arm. "You can't," he hissed, glancing over his shoulder at the shut door.

Severus' eyes narrowed, but he didn't remove his arm from Remus' grasp. "Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Lupin," he said harshly. "I am an adult, not a child, and I know fully the situation I am in. I have absolutely no desire or willingness to sit in a dank, dark cell for the rest of my living life to serve a sentence I do not deserve."

Remus eyed him apprehensively, angrily. "You want my help. That's why you asked for me to come."

"Partly," Severus said, looking away for a moment. "You are the only person I believe won't sell me out, other than Draco."

"And why would you presume that?"

Severus saw the hard set of Remus' face, the anger at being falsely drawn into this.

"You..." he started, and then looked down. It took a lot more bravery than he thought he had to say something like this. Even more than presenting his proposition for escape, this would put his face on the line. "I would like to think that you like me more than just as a colleague," he said quietly, fingers tracing the dried dots of blood on his lap.

Remus froze, deer in the headlights, spotlight on him, resolve to tell the aurors of Severus' plan collapsing.

"Well," he said finally, clearing his throat apprehensively. "Well, then, I... have to say I do. And I don't want to see you in Azkaban forever either, but..."

"But the ever-righteous Gryffindor does not want to sully his reputation by breaking a death eater out of prison, am I right?"

Severus' bitter tone shouldn't have shocked Remus, but it did. It struck at something inside him and he was reminded once again of Sirius. Perhaps if he had shown a little more of that Gryffindor courage before, he would never have believed Sirius to have killed Peter, to have turned over to Voldimort. Where had all his trust and faith gone?

Severus watched the parade of emotions cross Remus' down turned face, studied those dulled golden-brown eyes, the small nicks and scars, the lips pursed in concentration. Finally, the eyes rose and studied his face back. He was determined; he hoped Remus could see it. Finally, Remus sighed.

"What is your plan?"

* * *

Comment! Please! 


	5. Part Five

Final part, especially uploaded for those who have been following this for a while now. Sorry for taking so long with this piece. I was planning this to be the last chapter, but it feels like it needs an epilogue. Well, you'll see. And since my tastes have changed since I started this, I don't feel a desire to finish it much. But anyways: read.

* * *

**Part Five**

They hurry down the cobblestone road, hooded and cloaked, taking care not to touch anyone.

Remus' palm felt sweaty in Severus' hand.

His breathing was harsh, his chest was tight, and he was almost terrified that he was going to cough and ruin it all. Forcing that thought out of his head, he just focused on the ground moving in front of him. He wasn't sure where he was going, and he wasn't sure how he got to where he was, but he was trying his hardest to trust Remus.

Trust. What a foreign concept. He almost laughed.

---

"What do you think is taking Remus so long? He was going to take me out to visit my gringotts account..."

The door opened and shut again and they heard footsteps come down the stairs into the kitchen.

At first when Draco looked up from his newspaper spread across his half of the table, he thought for a moment that Remus must have picked up a rather large shadow. And then there was depth and motion and a flicker of light picked up a few features of a face and he froze. _No, no, it can't be. It must just be an auror or someone, no one I've met before..._

And then a hood was swept off and dark forest-green eyes set onto him, tired and hopeful.

"Severus!"

The tears stung his eyes and throat as his chair banged back against the floor, but he ignored it with an unusual wantonness, wrapping his arms around his oldest professor, most trusted friend, almost an uncle, but more of a father. He bathed in the glow for a few moments before he pulled away and saw the lines, paleness, gaunt frame...

"What are you doing here?" he asked accusingly, still unable to let go of thin arms.

A familiar smirk creased those thin lips.

"I'll tell you later."

He noticed that Severus was looking, not at him, but over his shoulder.

Draco turned, still one hand on Severus' arm, reassuring himself that he was there. Harry had a twisting look on his face, and his lips were set in that way that told Draco that he had made a decicion and wasn't going to change it for anyone.

"So you and the brat have made up, then?" Severus said quietly, a hand sliding off his shoulder.

Draco only nodded, looking between them, seeing the strange rite of passage going on, but not understanding it. Fortunately, someone did.

"Let's go find you a room, Severus," Remus said in his gentle way and caught the dark man's elbow. The connection was broken as he turned to look at Remus and Draco saw something flicker between them, something similar to how he felt about Harry. But he kept his mouth shut and let go of Severus' arm, letting them go up the stairs. Once he had heard a echoing, belligerant "I'm not an invalid", "Yes you are", he turned back to Harry, who had come up behind him.

It was a forced, weak smile, but it was a smile nevertheless. Their hands caught and held.

---

Remus was forced back against the wall by Severus' weight, his throat open for lips to suck on. He shouldn't... he was a fully grown adult... this was _Severus_...

But he couldn't stop the movements his hips were making, and he couldn't stop the whimpers and gasps coming out of his lips. It had been so long since he had been loved like this. Since Sirius...

Severus' mouth closed on his in a crushing embrace and Remus stroked Severus' hair, pressing their bodies together, wanting it like a passionnate teenager. His heart had never been given a chance to grow old.

"Severus," he sighed, eyes shut, catching his breath. "We're not young."

A soft chuckle ruffled the skin of his neck.

"Don't you think I know that?"

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please review. bowbow 


	6. Part Six: Afterwards

Not quite as smutty as I had planned, but this fic was never that smutty to start out. Here's the epilogue I promised everyone. Congradulations on a finished fic. Cheers!

* * *

**Afterward**

The holly wound acround the Black family crest over the fireplace was a bright green, the red berries distinct against the oak wood.

Draco couldn't help but favor them, this prickly bush with the beautiful and poisonious berries. He had stolen a sprig to hang on the post of his bed to dry, but it didn't have the same effect as the fresh plant.

"Hey."

Harry's lips pressed familiarly onto his cheek and their eyes flickered together with a smile.

"Do you want a drink or something? Bill and Fleur just got here, the rest of the Weasleys will be here soon."

Draco pursed his lips and reached up to run his hand through Harry's hair absent-mindedly.

"Do we have any of that white left?"

"Draco," chided Harry with a grin, pressing a kiss to his hand. "We're underage. Molly will throw a fit."

"It's only a year or two," Draco replied mildly, replacing his hand in his lap. "And if Remus and Severus don't mind, then I don't see why she should."

Harry sighed and smoothed his head. "I'll go see what I can do."

---

"Severus, can you give me a hand?"

He set down his glass of old elf-made wine on the table and headed into the kitchen as summoned. Remus was struggling with three dishes on his two hands, and the former Slytherin gently removed one with a smile.

"You're doing too much."

"It's only what Molly does every year. I wanted to give her a break."

They set the trays of food on the table and when his hands were free, Snape slid a hand into Remus' hair and leant in to nuzzle a kiss into his neck.

"Don't overstress yourself," he mumbled, and knew that Remus was blushing.

The private moment was over as the families were gathered for the evening's supper, but their eyes met and Remus knew with a shiver that this would be continued later.

---

Harry watched as his two former most hated enemies conferred in a corner. Harry saw the closeness between them, and almost envied it. The little touches that passed between them, built from long confidence and intimacy, the soft looks...

But then Draco handed Snape his empty glass and looked up, and their eyes met across the room. And when he saw the glow that filled them, that was enough.

"What are you moping for?"

Draco's breath against his cheek, and an arm around his waist. Harry flushed and Draco grinned deviously, nudging his lips under his chin, a little flick of the tounge.

"Nothing," Harry gasped, fingers tightening dangeriously on his glass. Draco pulled away, smiling.

"Whatever you say."

---

"Ngaa..."

"Relax, Remus..."

Remus was sorely tempted to tell Severus that his hot breath on his abdomin was doing nothing for his relaxation, but he really, honestly, truely did not want that mouth to move.

Another tounge dipping into his navel, another movement of his hips unable to be repressed, another gasp.

"There are _people_ still downstairs, Severus!"

That irritable sigh of Severus' that he knew so well.

"What do I have to do to get you to stop _thinking_!"

And Remus remembered Sirius saying that once and _shut his goddamn mouth_.

---

It definitely wasn't this comfortable the first time.

His head fell back and his body fell down, and ohthankmerlinforgravity because if he shifted - just, just there - Harry's cock was just brushing his prostate...

"Shit," Harry hissed, desperately trying to keep a hold on Draco's back as they fell together.

Draco whimpered as the movement, not at all sensible of the fact that his head was nearly brushing the floor. The blood stopped rushing to his head when Harry minovered off the chair and lowered them both to the floor.

"God that was a bad idea," he whispered apologeticly, but Draco just reached up, seized Harry's face and dragged him down to a heated kiss.

Slowly, their bodies fit into a rythmn, and ohfuckyes, Draco loved Harry's cock for curling just that little bit upwards...

---

It took a while for all to become quiet in the former House of Black that Christmas Eve, but all slept well in the end.

* * *

Thank you and goodnight.  



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